


everything i think i need

by honeyedgold



Category: Elisabeth - Levay/Kunze
Genre: Character Study, Dissociation, Dubious Consent, F/M, Gun Violence, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Non-Explicit Sex, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29831373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyedgold/pseuds/honeyedgold
Summary: In another world, it went like this: there was a prince, and he fell into the arms of the one who loved him most of all.
Relationships: Elisabeth von Österreich-Ungarn | Elisabeth of Bavaria/Der Tod | Death (Elisabeth), Rudolf von Österreich-Ungarn | Rudolf Crown Prince of Austria/Der Tod | Death (Elisabeth)
Kudos: 5





	everything i think i need

**Author's Note:**

> me: I’m not gonna write Elisafic again because that way lay madness  
> my writing muse/demon: hey bee, yuuyun called, they said you’re a clown

Rudolf was pacing restlessly around his bedchamber. This was nothing new, of course. The floor may as well have grooves in it documenting his every movement. Lately, he might be kin to one of the creatures trapped in the menagerie at Schönbrunn.

His hand flew to his heart. A buckled knee sent the Prince tumbling to the ground as if pushed.

Some mortal danger was close. An assassin? He had surely angered someone enough, if not with his articles, then with his  _ highly public  _ attempt to stem the tide of hatred at the demonstration. Fath-

He blinked; and suddenly he was standing nearly at attention again, looking into the eyes of an old friend. He did not recall rising.

One would think the eyes of Death would be black. (Of course, one would  _ also  _ think he would be a robed skeleton bearing a scythe instead of everything one had ever wanted.) They gleamed like quicksilver instead. Even though he was standing much too still, that light kept shifting in strange patterns. It only made his eyes look disconcertingly liquid and inhuman. And yet... there was a captivating beauty in them. 

“You’ve returned.”

“I made a promise, little Prince. I have never left your side.”

Rudolf breathed a sigh of relief. “I had hoped it was you.” He remembered then. In the twilight of sleep and wakefulness, sometimes he would hear voices whispering indistinctly. He had attributed the source of those murmurings to his friend, and thought it merely an expedient method to convince himself that he was not going mad. None could ever be quite sure that their mind was secure. Least of all a child of the Wittelsbach. 

There it was again, that pang - an incredible pain that held his frantic heart in its grasp and  _ squeezed  _ until it was fit to burst. But this time, his lungs also felt as if someone was trying to crush them flat. 

The back of a hand brushed lightly at his hair. In the stillness he heard a delicate, beautiful sound, almost like the chime of a bell. 

He scrambled to get away. Death advanced on him regardless. 

Breaths were wrenched from him in choked gasps. His lips were parted wide, but against his best efforts not one word emerged. Strangely enough, even if he  _ had  _ been able to speak, there would have been nothing to vocalise. His mind was completely and curiously blank.

Against all odds, he tore his gaze from the silver eyes. He would not - could not - be controlled! If he did… 

A cold hand reached out to stroke his cheek. Any thoughts of resisting were immediately consigned to the realm of distant memories. A pleasant haze drifted over his consciousness - if it could even be called that.

_ I would never harm you, my Prince. _

He wanted -

What does he want? 

Should he even care?

_ Help me. Please. _

A gentle flick of fingers sent him tumbling backwards into his bed.  _ Anything. _

His lashes fluttered like butterflies trapped in a sealed jar. Only the whites of his eyes were visible in a sliver between them. As they trembled and drifted together in that familiar dance - the routine that the Prince had done so many times in a certain discreetly-run salon - 

He felt just a little less alone.

Some time after they were finished, Rudolf found himself lying spent on the luxurious bed. He could find neither the physical strength nor the mental will to move, content to simply remain there forever if it was asked of him. His heart had stilled after the physical exertion; if anything, it was beating more slowly than normal.

Fingers trailed delicately from the crown of his golden head down his cheek. Pushed his chin up a little. 

Rudolf shivered, but only minutely. In a bizarre way, it seemed as close to a kiss as they would ever have.

“Are you still much troubled, Your Highness?” Death murmured. “If you are to be Emperor, you must take action. Your father would let the Empire rot away in his grip.” 

_ “Will I?”  _ Rudolf asked, half hopeful, half hollow. “What happens if I fail?” 

The smile that he received was enigmatic. “What would happen if you try?” 

The prince shook his head, chuckling. “You are simply incorrigible, my friend.” 

“Mm. I do endeavour to be so. Perhaps it is in my nature.”

“Perhaps indeed.”

Death stood then, drawing his clothing about him. 

“Will you return?” The question was hesitant, even fearful. 

“Whenever you  _ truly  _ need me.” 

And then his companion was gone, the room cold and desolate as if he had never been present. Drawing his knees into his chest, Rudolf stayed unmoving, letting tears stream freely from staring eyes. The strangest part of it all… was that he neither felt nor thought anything, even as he cried. It seemed the departure of his  _ friend  _ had taken everything away from him. Or was it the arrival? 

It wasn’t until numbness set in, invisible ants swarming all over his limbs, that he stirred. He was no longer lost. On the morrow, he had a café to go to. People to meet.

A revolution to plan.

* * *

His Angels divested the Prince of his fine jacket. A swirl of Death’s hand cued the beginning of the inexorable, frenetic dance. 

Those large dark eyes were lacking in their usual accoutrements. Gone was the scornful cynicism, revolutionary fervor, or even the faintest glimmer of emotion. They were terrible to look at. Empty and brimming with liquid despair that could swallow up a soul. (On this day, it seemed, it did.) 

Abruptly Rudolf seemed to snap out of his spellbound state. Fear bloomed across his face. He ran, then, bounding away like a deer with snarling, slavering dogs in pursuit. But Death would not be so easily denied. One sharp tug sent the prince hurtling back towards him. To his shock, it was far from enough. Rudolf resisted the grip with every ounce of strength he had left, snatching himself away at every turn. 

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity but was in reality mere seconds of deliberation, the call of the void became entirely too much. Like glass crushed beneath a boot, the human’s weak mind splintered. Rudolf looked down at the gun. Turned it over. Examined it in delicate white hands that had never seen an honest day’s work. His head snapped up, and for a brief moment he seemed to regain his senses. Then, he surged forwards to take Death into his embrace, to initiate the kiss that had been so long denied him. 

Death walked away, and waited. He had done all he could. Rudolf stared after him, a lost child. 

The Crown Prince had always been a terrible shot under duress.

* * *

Death let the familiar flavor dance on the tip of his tongue. Sweet, bold, darker than gall. Unchanging, even after nearly three decades of their acquaintance. He knew, as he had when he first met the boy, that the correct choices had been made. Fate-touched, the Prince was; happier in death than in life, saved from a miserable existence, the first link in an inevitable chain.    
  
Visions flashed across his mind-scape at an incomprehensible speed. He saw the human world as it soon would be, engulfed by fire and poison in the wake of the fallen Prince. One pawn had tipped over, and down the king would follow, into the abyss. 

It did not concern him. He had what he wanted. What he had worked for with the proverbial patience of the grave. In the end, every being that he cared about was content, or would be, and that was enough for him. 

Onwards. 

His Empress awaited. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the Toho 2016 production (well, as much as I can make from it anyway, since my Japanese is, regrettably, nonexistent except for weeaboo vocabulary via osmosis from being on the Internet for much more than the recommended human daily dosage). In any case, this is more of a disjointed character study than anything worthwhile in matters of plot. 
> 
> For people who have not seen the Toho production: the order is Hass - Schatten - Verschwörung - Spiegel - Mayerling. Rudolf tries to stop an anti-Semitic demonstration and fails, Death seduces him into taking real action, he goes to plot with Hungarian rebels, nearly gets arrested at a pro-Hungarian demonstration gone wrong, goes to Sisi for help with an angry Franz… and you know the rest.
> 
> Another source of inspiration, which gave me the title, is Sara Bareilles’ song "Gravity" (which I highly recommend that you listen to while reading this fic), and based on my interpretation of the portrayal by/choreography between Shirota Yuu as Death and Furukawa Yuta as Rudolf, with passing contributions from Inoue Yoshio’s Death. I do liberally borrow elements of Yuutod for nightverse (one could almost say nightverse Death is an amalgamation of Mark Seibert and Shirota Yuu), but I hope you will find no trace of Mark here. (That definitely does not bar me from making little smirking nods to nightverse. Heeeeee.)
> 
> Yuu/Yuta’s dynamic is such that Rudolf’s seduction feels less like a calculated ploy to hurt Sisi (AHEM AHEM HELLO MARK AHEM AHEM) but a win-win situation, in which Death pockets both the pretty prince and the headstrong empress. It’s the closest to a sweet version of Todolf we will ever get - and it SHOULD stay RIGHT THE FUCK THERE, no romanticizing, no thank you. I like to think of YuuTod as a malevolent, unseelie fae who decided to acquire one trophy and got two. (Or rather, a pet… But given his “what have I done” face at the end of the DVD, I doubt that would have been accurate.)
> 
> The menagerie mentioned is the Tiergarten Schönbrunn, the world’s oldest continuously operating zoo.
> 
> Take every single word in this thing with lots of salt. When mind manipulation is involved, assume all narrators are unreliable. Self-serving? Maybe. Who knows? A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down… 
> 
> I also would like to stress that I don’t subscribe to the mentality Death mentioned, that death/suicide is an escape. (“Happier in death than in life,” was my tribute to Mary Vetsera.) That was then, this is now. If you, the person reading this, are in a dark place: please, seek help. I would be happy to talk to you. I have been there so often and yet I have always crawled out of rock bottom, broken but undefeated. You are not alone. You never will be. I love you.


End file.
